A Debt Repaid
by OkayDokey33
Summary: Life at the W Academy is hectic enough, especially without one's own personal problems being added to the mix, and with life hitting them as hard as it did now, Vietnam and Ukraine could definitely use a break. But with whom? It's lonely to always take a break by yourself after all. Could Ukraine accidentally wrecking Vietnam's motorcycle be a sign?
1. Vietnam Wants a Break

"W-what?" a flustered Vietnam asked, a light blush spreading across her face. "Y-you want to interview me so that you can write an article about the Motorcycle Club?"

Japan nodded. "Yes. So far, the W Academy's Newspaper Club has interviewed every single head or authoritative figure of every single club in the school except for this one. Our apologies, but up until now, for some reason, we were never able to find or contact you."

Vietnam quickly raised her hands up in protest. "Y-you don't need to apologize, really!" She lowered her arms, averted her gaze towards the ground, and softly said, "If anyone should be apologizing, it should be me. I don't really like interviews, so when I heard that the Newspaper Club was planning on interviewing me I sort of, well… avoided you like the plague." She gave the members of the Newspaper Club a small, apologetic bow. "I'm sorry for the inconvenience."

Germany sighed, folded his arms, shook his head, and asked, "If you don't like interviews then wouldn't it have made more sense to come up to us and get it over with?"

Vietnam straightened herself back up and blushed again. "Y-yeah, I know, but every time I saw one of you, for some reason I would just instinctively keep my head down and walk the other way."

"Don't worry about it!" Italy cried, a goofy grin practically plastered across his face. "We're doing it now, aren't we? Better late than never, right?"

"He's actually right for once," Germany said. He picked up a pen and notepad and said, "Alright, let's get this over with."

Vietnam nodded. "Y-yeah, that's probably for the best."

"Very good," Japan said, picking up his own pen and notepad as Italy cheerfully followed suit. "Now then, for starters, can you please tell us what you normally do in the Motorcycle Club?"

"Telling us lots of stuff would be great!" Italy cried.

"Well…," Vietnam was about to do just that, but when she saw the looks the Newspaper Club members were giving her she suddenly got cold feet. Germany was looking at her with the amount of seriousness you would expect from a serious, professional reporter, but more so. His piercing stare was so intense that Vietnam felt like he was literally peering into the farthest reaches of her soul, and it's at least somewhat hard not to feel somewhat nervous and intimidated when someone's looking at you like that.

Japan's stare was also a look you would find on certain reporters, the type of reports who were very serious and very enthusiastic about their jobs. The look he gave her could be described as calm on the outside, but noticeably eager and focused on the inside. The moment she had said, "Well…," he had immediately written that exact word down (and, believe it or not, when she did not continue immediately after that, the exact same number of periods after the word to emphasize her pause) and looked up at her with eager (yet calm and reserved) anticipation for what she was going to say next, and she could've sworn that she saw the hand holding his pen twitch as seconds went by and she still had yet to continue the thought of hers that he had started writing down. She had to admit that his enthusiastic efficiency in recording her every word was a bit overwhelming, and she was sadly never really good with anything "overwhelming".

The look on Italy's face was definitely enthusiastic, but at the same time there was something… unsettling about it. He was smiling, but it was just so absentminded, so silly, so… creepily vague. Vietnam didn't really know what it was, but something about it just made her feel more uncomfortable than she already was.

"W-well…," Vietnam began again, trying as hard as she could to finish her first sentence in the interview, but the uneasiness she felt from the strange looks of the Newspaper club made it hard for the words to come out. She blushed, averted her eyes away from their gazes, and slowly fiddled with her fingers. "We… talk about motorcycles."

Japan quickly wrote that down and, when he was finished, quickly looked back at Vietnam, patiently awaiting and preparing himself for more. When more didn't come, Germany and Japan nervously glanced at each other before Germany cleared his throat, and asked, "Um… and?"

"T-that's it."

"That's it?!" Germany repeated, shocked by this sudden revelation.

Vietnam blushed even harder and nodded. "Yeah… that's it."

"But that's impossible!" Germany argued. "There's got to be more to it than that!"

Despite Germany's prodding for more information, Vietnam stood her ground. "But that's really all there is to it," she softly insisted.

Germany was about to respond to Vietnam's disappointing insistence, but Japan calmly intervened, and said, "Forgive us, but we honestly expected more from a club that centered itself on the concept of motorcycles."

"Yeah!" Italy cried, frowning due to the disappointing amount of information they had received thus far, but as usual, a silly, innocent little thought popped up in the back of his head and he was back to his usual, goofy, smiling self. "Hey! Hey! Do you have special motorcycle races or something? Do you? Do you?!" he asked excitedly.

Vietnam shook her head. "N-No. Besides, no school would ever allow such a thing."

"Obviously," Germany muttered, shaking his head at Italy's ridiculous question. Just then, he remembered all of the strange and weird clubs they had already witnessed and interviewed and added, "Though with that being said, with all the strange things this school has allowed thus far, it's a mystery why they wouldn't allow something like THAT out of all things."

Italy let out a small, disappointed sigh. "That's a shame. A motorcycle race would be fun, wouldn't it?" he asked with a smile.

"I wouldn't really know," Vietnam said.

"Excuse me," Japan said after quickly writing down every last word that every last person had said in the interview up until now, "but can you please specify what you mean by 'We talk about motorcycles'?" He wanted to try one last time to get some article-worthy information from Vietnam, and besides, the interview had gotten somewhat off-track.

Vietnam shrugged. "I could, but that's basically the gist of it." She blushed at the answer she gave them. It wasn't that Vietnam was bad at public speaking; she could do it just fine if it was in front of a serious audience and if it were on an important occasion, but that was just it, neither the interview nor the interviewers in general were that serious nor that important.

Disappointed by his failed attempt to get any article-worthy information, Japan sighed, jotted down what little Vietnam had said, and whispered, "Well, I guess that's that."

Germany nodded in disappointed agreement. "Yeah," he whispered. "It's a shame, but this interview sadly isn't going anywhere."

"Wait, what?" a surprised Vietnam asked.

"The interview's over," Germany answered.

Vietnam couldn't believe it. Had she really been running away from something that was so short and so simple? "Really?" she asked incredulously.

"Well," Germany said, "you technically answered our question." He looked away and muttered, "Though an answer with a bit more detail would've been nice."

"And we usually ask more than one question," Japan added, "but with the way the interview is going…," his sentence trailed off from there.

Realizing what they meant, Vietnam blushed and gave them all an apologetic bow. "S-Sorry, but I'm not too keen on talking about myself," she looked away and murmured, "especially in front of such a strange crowd."

"I can definitely relate," Germany said, glancing at Italy, who still had that unusual, goofy grin on his face. He then looked back at Vietnam. "Well, if we're finished here then we should probably head back and start working on the next issue of the paper now." He pointed behind them with his thumb, indicating that they were planning to leave in that direction.

Japan nodded. "Right." He turned to Vietnam and gave her a respectful bow. "Thank you for your time."

"Though you honestly could've spared us a little bit more of it," Germany grumbled.

Vietnam blushed again. "Y-yeah, I know." She decided to give them all one last apologetic bow. "I apologize again for being such a bother." Before they could respond to her apology, Vietnam stepped back, preparing to leave as subtly and as quickly as she could. "Well, I guess we'll be going our separate ways now." She raised her hand up to wave good-bye as she started leaving in the direction opposite the direction Germany had previously indicated. "I'll see you guys around, I guess."

"Wait!" Italy cried. "Before you go, let me take a picture of you for the paper!" Then, seemingly from out of nowhere, he took out a small camera, aimed it at Vietnam, and cried, "Say 'Pasta!'!"

"Wait, no!" Vietnam cried, blushing furiously as she raised her arms up to cover her face. "I'm not photogenic!" But it was too late. By the time she said that, Italy had already taken her picture and it wasn't a very good one either. He had taken the picture just before her arms completely covered her face, to reveal her face in all its blushing, frantic, screaming glory.

"Italy!" Germany cried. "What do you think you're doing?!"

Italy put down the camera and looked at Germany with that same, strange, absentminded, shameless smile on his face. "I'm taking a picture of Vietnam for the paper!" he answered, cheerfully and innocently.

Germany swiped the camera out of Italy's hands. "Idiot! You can't just take pictures of people before they're ready! The picture will be horrible otherwise!"

Italy seemed legitimately surprised by this statement. "Really?" he asked.

Germany shook his head and sighed. "Honestly, sometimes I just don't know what to do with you." He looked at the camera in his hands. "By the way, what type of camera is this?"

Italy smiled again. "Isn't it great?!" he cried, waving his arms around excitedly. "It was really cheap too!" He gave Germany and Japan a cheerful thumbs-up to celebrate finding this cheap, usable camera.

"That doesn't answer my question," Germany muttered.

"I-I'm sorry," Vietnam said, "but can you please retake my picture? I wasn't ready."

"Yeah, sure," Germany said. "Let me just find out how this thing works." He examined Italy's camera for a moment before looking at Italy and asking, "Hey, Italy, what's the deal with this thing?! There's only one button on it!"

Japan took the camera out of Germany's hands and examined it himself. "Hmm," he said upon examining the camera. "I believe this is one of those cheap, disposable cameras one can find in drug stores."

"What?!" Germany and Vietnam cried.

Japan nodded. "Cameras like this have a set number of pictures you can take. They have no zoom in or zoom out features, or any features for that matter. You take basic pictures with it, and after you reach the limit you can't take any more. You go and get your photos developed and after that, the camera's unfortunately useless." He turned to Vietnam. "I'm sorry Vietnam, but we can't retake your picture. Italy's camera has already reached its limit, and it can't delete any of its previous photos, so unfortunately, the only picture we have of you will have to be the one we'll have to work with."

"W-wait, what?!" Vietnam cried. "But can't you just get another camera and take another picture of me with that?!"

Germany folded his arms and shook his head. "I'm sorry, but the Newspaper Club is on a very strict budget."

"What's that supposed to mean?!" Vietnam cried frantically.

"W-well," Germany began, a light blush appearing on his face as he averted his eyes away from Vietnam's gaze. Apparently whatever the explanation was, he wasn't too proud of it. "You see, we kind of already blew our budget on… well… -"

Before Germany could finish his sentence, Italy flung himself in front of Vietnam (which startled her a bit) and cried, "Pasta!"

Germany blushed even harder. "Y-yes, pasta."

Just mentioning it got Italy licking his lips. "It was so good too!" he cried.

"Wipe that smile off your face!" Germany cried. "This isn't something you should be smiling about!"

"Huh? Why?"

"It's because of you that almost anything else we need to buy doesn't fit into our budget!"

"Yes, who knew that pasta would be so costly?" Japan muttered. "At least, by our standards."

"So let me get this straight," Vietnam said, "you can't retake my picture, because you can't afford it?!"

At this point, even Japan was starting to blush out of embarrassment. "W-Well, we CAN afford it… after we sell a few papers, that is."

The three of them took a brief moment of silence while Italy was humming to himself besides them. Vietnam was almost scared to ask this, but after taking a deep breath and brushing her bangs to the side, worked up the courage to quietly ask, "When does the next issue of the paper come out?"

A pause, before Japan reluctantly answered, "Tomorrow."

Vietnam's eyes widened. "T-tomorrow?!" she repeated weakly.

Japan slowly nodded. "Tomorrow," he confirmed.

For a moment, Vietnam couldn't believe her ears. "Why?" she asked.

"It's the Newspaper Club's policy!" Germany explained passionately. "As the W Academy's Newspaper Club, we strive to write and produce our papers at the professional level! That means we strive to write detailed, informative, shocking, well-written articles at a daily pace! We will not rest until we make tomorrow's paper because we care about our readers and we believe that our readers deserve the very best in terms of service and of quality!" He raised his fist up and bellowed, "W Academy's Newspaper Club!"

Japan raised his fist up into the air and cried (as loudly as he could), "W Academy's Newspaper Club!"

Italy followed suit and cried, "Yeah!"

After a moment of silence, Germany realized that he had gotten carried away and had started the Newspaper Club's cheer in the middle of a school hallway looking like an idiot in front of Vietnam and anyone else who was coincidentally in that same hallway (and who knows, maybe even anyone beyond that said hallway). He blushed, slowly lowered his arm, coughed into his fist, and said, "But yeah, that's how it is… sorry."

Vietnam thought for a moment before asking, "Can you avoid writing an article about me on the next issue?"

Japan slowly shook his head. "I'm sorry, but we can't. We wanted to write an article about every club and every president in each club, and because you've been avoiding the interview with us until now, you're unfortunately the only person left who hasn't had an article written about them and their respective club, and we don't have any articles we could replace your article with on the paper."

At this, Vietnam was slowly starting to panic. All this time she had been avoiding the inevitable, and in the end, she was definitely going to pay for it. She blushed at the idea of everyone in the entire school seeing that no doubt terrible, terrible picture of her. "Please don't," she pleaded weakly.

Japan reluctantly shook his head. "I'm sorry, but we're already scheduled to use the Newspaper Club's official classroom today after school. The teacher expects us to be there."

"And we can't NOT put your picture next to your article," Germany explained, "because we've already put everyone else's picture besides everyone else's article."

Realizing that there was literally no way out, Vietnam covered her mouth with her hands and shook her head in dismay. "Oh no," she mumbled through her fingers. "This CANNOT be happening!"

"Aw, come on!" Italy cheerfully said, giving Vietnam that goofy grin of his. "You're over-thinking this! There's nothing for you to worry about! A cute girl like you couldn't have had THAT bad of a picture, right?"

Vietnam groaned. If history has taught her anything, it was that Italy just gave this situation its kiss of death.

* * *

The next day, just as she had predicted, everyone bought a copy of the school paper, and when everybody saw Vietnam's terrible picture alongside the almost (if not more) terrible article about her and the Motorcycle Club, Vietnam spent the entire day being bombarded with questions and comments such as:

"What is the meaning of this?! This picture was obviously rushed! What, do you think interviews aren't worth your time? Are you so arrogant as to believe that you're above such things?!"

Vietnam shook her head and waved her hands frantically from side to side in denial. "No! T-That's not it at all!"

"Ha ha! This picture's hilarious! Hey, Vietnam, what do you call this? Your 'Gah!' face?"

Vietnam blushed uncontrollably as she shook her head. "N-No, of course not!"

"Hey, are you really this shy Vietnam?"

"I-I don't know!"

"Pitiful."

"S-Sorry!"

"I didn't know a face could be this red!"

"I-I didn't know either!"

"What is this? Are you hiding behind a blur?"

"T-That would be my arms trying to cover up my face."

There wasn't really any particular type of comment or question that embarrassed her more, she was simply embarrassed by all of the unwanted attention she was receiving, and for the majority of the day, she felt like she wanted to crawl under a rock and hide. Luckily for her, the school day had just ended, and she was currently making a quick (but subtle) break for the parking lot to get onto her motorcycle, ride home, and quickly leave this terrible day behind her.

Unluckily for her, Taiwan was with her, trying to convince her that this entire, painful ordeal wasn't as bad as she thought. "Come on Vietnam, it's not so bad!"

"Yes it is," Vietnam calmly argued.

"No, it's not!" Taiwan insisted. "I mean, look at this picture!" She forced Vietnam to look at the picture that Vietnam had already seen many times that day, and just like all those other times, blushed furiously as she came face to face with it. "Can you believe how cute you look in this?!" Taiwan demanded.

Vietnam couldn't believe her ears. "'Cute'?!" How could anyone possibly think that this picture was cute?

Taiwan nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, it's SUPER cute! It perfectly displays all of the charm the 'shy girl' archetype possesses!" Taiwan let out a dreamy sigh and murmured, "I wish I had even half of your 'shy girl' charm."

"Yeah, well that makes one of us," Vietnam muttered. This may have looked cute to Taiwan, but to Vietnam it looked like it could win first place in "The Most Embarrassing Picture Ever Taken Competition", and she definitely felt embarrassed too. Vietnam sighed. "Honestly," she thought, "to this day, I STILL don't get her taste in what's cute and what's not, or her entire thought process for that matter."

"Besides," Vietnam said, "the article that goes with it is just as embarrassing."

Taiwan disapprovingly shooed that remark away. "Oh please, you're over-exaggerating Viet!" She looked at the said article, cleared her voice, and read, "While some of us go to school on a school bus or on foot, Vietnam chooses to go to school on her own personal motorcycle! Vietnam, a proud representative and president of W Academy's proud Motorcycle Club, gave the Newspaper Club the full story about what goes on within the walls of one the academy's most interesting and most exciting clubs!" Taiwan then tried to imitate Vietnam's voice as she read her quote. "'W-well…. We talk about motorcycles,' Vietnam said. When we begged her to reveal more about the interesting and exciting events that took place within the club, Vietnam simply said, 'I could, but that's basically the gist of it'.

"We were disappointed to hear that, sadly, the Motorcycle Club does not participate in any motorcycle races of any kind. What a strange world we live in! Well fellow readers, it's been a great run, but sadly, this is the Newspaper Club's final club interview. Purchase the next issue of this academy's proud newspaper in order to see our newest column, 'Pasta! Tips from Italy Himself'! Ciao! This article was written by Germany, Japan and Italy!"

She put down the newspaper and squealed. "That was SO cool! They wanted information out of you and you were all cool and stuff, saying stuff like, 'No, you don't deserve to know! I'll only give you a vague idea about what we do here, and that's final!'! You're rocking the 'shy girl' AND the 'cool girl' and 'mysterious girl' archetype Vietnam!"

Vietnam just shook her head in dismay. That article about her was the shortest article of its kind and it made her look extremely shallow. Yeah sure, she didn't want too much attention on her, good or bad, but she also had enough pride to make her want to look at least somewhat decent in front of everybody else, and this article proved to everyone that, word for word, she wasn't, or at the very least, it gave them a reason to think that. Honestly, despite all the time Vietnam and Taiwan spend with each other, Vietnam doubted that they really understood each other that much.

"Well, I'm going home now," Vietnam said. "Bye."

"Oh!" Taiwan cried, he eyes sparkling out of excitement. "Can I come with you and see those rockin' set of wheels of yours?"

"No," Vietnam said firmly as she quickly walked away. Honestly, Taiwan was nice and all, but sometimes, she was just too energetic and cheerful for Vietnam to handle, to the point where sometimes, Vietnam felt like she just needed a break; and with life hitting her as hard as it did right now, she desperately wanted one, but that usually meant that Vietnam would have to spend a lot of time by herself, and despite how often she detested attention, she would've felt better if she had a friend to take a break with rather than take a break from, but with how hectic all the other nations could get, the chances of her finding someone like that seemed slim to none.


	2. Ukraine Wants a Break

"Big sister!" a female voice cried.

Ukraine and Hungary turned around to see Ukraine's little sister, Belarus, quickly speed walking her way up to them. "Belarus!" Ukraine happily cried, unshed tears of joy forming at the corners of her eyes. "It's so great to see you! It's been so long!"

She was happily about to hug her, but Belarus saw it coming and immediately stopped her by holding up her hand and extending it outward, stopping the overexcited Ukraine in her tracks and preventing her from getting close enough to hug her. "Don't take it too personally sister," Belarus said, with as much calm restraint and maturity as she could muster. "If the current situation had not presented itself, I would rather be doing anything besides hang out with you and those enormously large knockers of yours."

Ukraine, taken aback by Belarus's blunt, somewhat insulting statement, cowardly stepped back from Belarus, but tried her best to keep a smile on her face. "O-Oh, I see. That's okay, I understand. You have more important things to do than spend time with little old me, but still," the tears she held back until now finally fell down her face, "it's been so long since we've talked to each other, and I'm just… so happy!" She then ignored every opposing survival instinct in her body and suddenly enveloped her little sister in a big, soft, suffocating hug.

"Get these pathetic excuses for airbags out of my face this instant, you witch!" Belarus said, her voice unfortunately muffled by Ukraine's giant chest covering her entire face.

Ukraine, upon realizing what she had just done, immediately released Belarus and stepped back to look at the damage she had unintentionally done. She saw now that Belarus's hair was all messed up and that she was now trying to bring oxygen back into her lungs. "Oh no!" Ukraine wailed. "How stupid of me! All this time, I've longed to be reunited with my sister again, but now that I have, I almost suffocated her to death because of my stupid chest! And now she probably hates me all over again! Oh Belarus, please forgive me!"

She was about to go up to Belarus and hold her hands as a means of begging, but luckily, Hungary noticed the hostile atmosphere radiating off of Belarus and stopped her friend just in time. "Uku," she said gently, "please, you're being too hard on yourself."

"No she isn't!" Belarus cried. "I could've died just now! And do you know how humiliating it would've been if I had died suffocating in my sister's enormous milk makers?! I'd be the laughingstock at my own funeral! And not just me, but big brother Russia too! He'd probably be so humiliated that he probably wouldn't even want to go to my funeral in the first place!" A sudden thought popped into Belarus's head and she gasped. "Wait," she growled, "now I get it! You were trying to kill me so that you could have big brother Russia all to yourself! And with a death so humiliating, brother Russia wouldn't even attempt visiting my grave, and because of that, he would have no choice but to spend and devote all of his time, love, and energy on you! How could you sister?! HOW COULD YOU?!"

"What?!" Ukraine cried, raising her hands up in front of her in an attempt to calm her little sister down. "But sister, I would never do such a thing!"

"LIAR!" Belarus cried.

"Now wait just a minute!" Hungary said, stepping in between Ukraine and Belarus, getting in Belarus's way as to prevent her from ripping poor Ukraine to shreds with her bare hands. "You can't go around making all of these crazy accusations without anything to back them up!"

"Hun-dear," Ukraine whispered frantically, "what are you doing?"

"You can't let your sister have her way with you Uku!" Hungary said with complete conviction. "And if you're not going to do it, then I might as well do it for you!"

Ukraine gasped, unshed tears forming from the corners of her eyes again. "B-But, you can't!"

"Sure I can!" Hungary insisted. She glared at Belarus, who just so happened to be glaring back, not backing down despite being in the presence of the battle-hardened female nation. "I'm not scared of her!"

"No, you can't!" Ukraine cried, trying to keep Hungary back from starting a fight with her younger sibling. "She's my little sister Hun-dear!"

"That's no excuse!" Hungary argued. She stopped trying to get to Belarus and turned to face Ukraine. "When are you going to stop letting her walk all over you and stand up for yourself Uku?!"

"W-Well," Ukraine didn't really know how to respond to that. "I don't know!" She averted her eyes away from Hungary's demanding gaze and murmured, "When I'm ready, I guess."

Hungary let out an exasperated sigh. "You mean never," Hungary softly accused.

The tears were welling up in Ukraine's eyes. "Hun-dear!"

Hungary let out another angry sigh and slowly rubbed her temples in an attempt to calm herself. "Okay, you're right, that was a bit extreme, but you understand what I'm trying to say, right?"

Ukraine quickly nodded. "Yes, but," Ukraine once again averted her eyes away from Hungary's and sheepishly fiddled with her fingers, "… aren't things already okay the way they are?"

"Uku! This isn't healthy!"

"Please," Ukraine pleaded, "can't we just talk about something else?"

Hungary let out a defeated sigh. At this rate, she knew that Ukraine wasn't going to listen to her no matter what she said, so she decided to let it go, for now. "Alright, fine," she said, lifting her hands up to emphasize her passive, though noticeably dispirited, resignation towards her friend's request. She then turned to Belarus, irritably placed her hands on her hips, and asked, "So if you're not here for Uku, then what ARE you here for?"

Belarus folded her arms, let out an exasperated huff, and explained, "If you must know, Big brother Russia has been avoiding me, and I hear that, as part of the Soviet Union Club, he targets W Academy's Choral Club on a regular basis. No doubt he is hypnotized by those overblown melons of yours, sister." She flashed a quick, spiteful, disapproving glance towards Ukraine's chest, while the owner of the said chest gasped in surprise at her sister's accusation.

"But Belarus, that can't be! I haven't seen Russia in a while either," tears welled up in her eyes as she added, "and besides, even if I did see him, I have been forbidden by my boss to associate with him in any way! Oh Belarus, why can't we all just be one, small, happy family again?!"

Belarus quickly looked away. "Please, the only family that I wish to be a part of is a family with only Russia and me!" she declared.

"Yes," Hungary muttered angrily and sarcastically, "forget the older sister who cared for you when you were young." She shook her head and added, "Honestly, I can't understand why Uku lets you get away with stuff like this."

"Hun-dear," Ukraine pleaded softly, "please, just let it go."

Despite Ukraine's appeal for peace and Hungary's admittedly reluctant act of compliancy, it didn't stop Hungary from grumbling as she and Belarus stared daggers at one another, with Ukraine looking nervously back and forth between the two. The silence and the tension in the air simply added to her worries.

Finally, Belarus broke the silence by asking, "Not that I am all that interested in your personal lives or anything, but where are you two heading off to anyway?"

Hungary let out an angry huff, and answered, "If you must know, the Choral Club contacted me and asked me to inform your sister (who they couldn't contact themselves, by the way, because your sister can't afford her own cell phone) that they wanted to meet her at the front of the school after school, and, being her friend and all, I decided to tag along." She narrowed her eyes as she looked at Belarus. "Does that answer your question?"

Belarus folded her arms and narrowed her eyes as she looked at Hungary. "Yes, yes it does," she said. She then smirked, and said, "Though, if you ask me, I think the only reason you want to tag along with Double-Ds over here is because you want to see those three Baltic boys." She snickered, before she added, "I get it. It's easier to imagine them in a hardcore threesome when you see them in person, am I right?"

Hungary gasped. "T-That's not true!" she cried, and it actually wasn't. She had genuinely gone with Ukraine because she was her friend, but the moment Belarus placed that particular thought into her head, a faint blush slowly spread across her face as she rolled her eyes up and imagined the scene Belarus had just suggested. "But now that you mention it, that would be pretty hot," she said, her mouth opening slightly, a bit of drool falling down from the edge of her mouth. "I bet they know EXACTLY how to handle each other."

Belarus sighed. "You're almost as bad as my sister," she gave Ukraine a quick, angry glance, "…almost."

This seemed to immediately pull Hungary out of her daydream, as she shook her head and glared, once again, at Ukraine's little sister. "What is wrong with you?!" Hungary cried. She turned to confront her friend. "Do something about this Uku!" When Ukraine didn't do anything, Hungary added, "You've got two reasons to chew her out right now! One is to defend yourself and the other is to defend me, your friend!" Still nothing. A part of Hungary just couldn't believe it. "Uku," she exclaimed, "I'm trying to help you!"

"I know!" Ukraine wailed, tears running down her face. "I'm sorry Hun-dear, but… I just can't… at least, not right now!"

Hungary was starting to get tired of this excuse. Obviously Ukraine needed a bit more of a push. "Uku, if you don't do it now-"

"I know!"

"If you know then you should be able to do it!"

Ukraine shook her head. "I'm sorry Hun, but… I just can't!"

A pause. "Why Uku?" Hungary asked softly. Ukraine gasped once she heard just how softly her friend had asked this. Mustering up enough courage to look at her friend, Ukraine could only whimper feebly as she came face to face with Hungary's extremely hurt, worried, and disappointed presence.

Ukraine was completely horrified. "D-Did I do this?" she inwardly asked herself. "Did I really cause my friend this much pain?"

Ukraine shook her head again, the tears falling down harder and faster than before. "I… I don't know! It's because I'm stupid, alright?!" Then, blubbering like a baby, Ukraine ran off towards the front of the school, ignoring her friend and her sister's attempts to stop her, her chest making their trademark "boing" sound as she ran.

"I'm horrible!" Ukraine thought as she ran, keeping her head down in a vain attempt to keep from attracting too much attention to herself. "All I ever do is cause problems and make other people worry about me!" She shook her head self-loathingly, hating herself more and more with each passing step she took. "I wish I was different! I wish everything was different!"

Yes, life could get pretty hectic, especially when you're related to Russia and Belarus, and for someone like Ukraine, it was even more horribly so. She loved both of her siblings, immensely and unconditionally, but unfortunately for her, life just wouldn't let her do that, at least, not up close, which was something she desperately longed for everyday. Sure, she wanted to have and spend time with other friends besides Russia and Belarus, but that shouldn't mean she should have to be separated from them for such long periods of time; and every time she did have a miraculous moment of time with them, being Ukraine, she would always find a way to screw it up and probably taint her relationship with them more and more every time they met.

And then there were friends like Hungary, who she knew cared deeply for her just as much as she cared deeply for them, but there were so many things about her that worried them, so much, in fact, that Ukraine often wondered if she was more trouble to them than she was actually worth. As a result of herself and the rotten luck she usually had with her, she always felt awful when she was around her friends and family, even when she tried her best to feel otherwise. Once and a while, Ukraine longed for a break, a break from her, although caring, somewhat eccentric friends, a break from her admittedly strange and crazy siblings, a break from that awful feeling she almost always felt whenever she was around them, but in all honesty, looking at her life up until this point, she had no reason to believe that was even remotely possible.


End file.
